


Not Quite Home

by domini_moonbeam



Category: 19天 - Old先 | 19 Days - Old Xian
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Light Angst, M/M, Sex, Tumblr Prompt, longing for others
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:28:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28008474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/domini_moonbeam/pseuds/domini_moonbeam
Summary: Got a tumblr ask for He Tian and Jian Yi missing Mo and Xi after running off to be mobsters. It's been years but they've never gotten over them and try using each other to cope.
Relationships: He Tian/Jian Yi (19 Days)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 55





	Not Quite Home

**Author's Note:**

> This is a oneshot--not connected to any of my other fics.
> 
> Hope you like it!

How had it started this time?

He Tian sat with his back to the headboard, fanning fingers against the backs of Jian Yi’s naked thighs, feeling the muscles under his skin move every time he rose up.

How had it started?

* * *

Jian Yi had been moping. They had come back to the penthouse after a particularly shitty night, the sun rising outside, and taken turns showering to wash the blood off. When He Tian had come out of the shower, Jian Yi was still flopped naked on the bed, eyes closed. “I want to go home,” he said.

He Tian curled his lip to bare teeth at the other man—even if he wasn’t looking. He didn’t have a home. Neither of them did, not really. He almost pointed it out but he knew what Jian Yi had meant—he wanted to go back to Xi.

Anyone else would think Jian Yi should have gotten over his childhood crush—his first love. They had been kids. It was years ago. It was a different life. But He Tian understood, because he still dreamed about a redhead. He had to fight the impulse to have someone look in on Mo, because as much as he wanted to know what he was doing and who he had become, he couldn’t risk anyone else knowing he cared. Not yet. Not until they found their way out and free of their bloodlines. It was the cause that had united Jian Yi and He Tian. They never had to talk about it.

He Tian couldn’t tell Jian Yi to shut up and get over it, because _he_ wasn’t over it either.

So, instead, that day he drew the thick blackout curtains and plunged the room into shadows.

He dropped the towel he’d had around his waist and pushed the damp hair back from his face. He walked to the bed in the dark, until his knee bumped the edge and one of Jian Yi’s legs draped over the mattress. Jian Yi tensed, starting to move away in silent confusion, but He Tian slid down to his knees and caught the other man’s thighs, keeping him where he was. He heard Jian Yi’s breath quicken and felt his confusion.

“Just don’t fucking say anything,” He Tian spoke into the shadows, one thumb rolling circles against Jian Yi’s inner thigh, feeling his muscles tense and his body twitch. Jian Yi had made a habit of playing a flirt with just about everyone they met—it gave him an almost unhinged quality that kept everyone they did business with on edge and confused. No one could ever get a read on Jian Yi. He could smile and laugh, play the fool, and then shoot the man sitting across from him between the eyes.

He played the flirt but He Tian knew he never brought anyone home—never went home with anyone that was going to survive the night. He was still hung up on that first love, the one he couldn’t have. He Tian understood. “You be Red and I’ll be Blue,” he said finally. They never used their names, even on the very rare occasions they spoke of them.

Jian Yi’s breath hitched and then shuddered out of him, he relaxed slowly and He Tian felt him laying back against the bed again. Had he nodded in the dark? He might have. That idiot.

He let his hands wander those thighs, down and then up again, stroking hips and waist, imagining Mo Guan Shan all grown up and spread out on this bed for him. Home. He wanted to go home.

He trailed his lips up one thigh, kissing and nipping and reveling in all the muffled sounds he dragged up from the other man’s chest, imagining him trying to hold them back—trying to pretend he wasn’t being swept away. When he reached the apex of his thighs, the other man was hard. He took him in hand, stroking a few times before licking his way to the tip and then sucking him into his mouth. He loved the way he squirmed, fingers twisting in the covers and hips twitching with the strained effort not to buck into his throat.

He Tian couldn’t help but imagine what his life would have been if he had been anything close to normal. They would have grown up together, finished school, and moved into some shitty little apartment. It would have been a dive and they’d probably work too many jobs for too little pay but it would have been heaven if it was with Mo.

It was all too easy to imagine Jian Yi was his redhead in the dark—that desperate want for it filling in all the gaps.

Would they have had a normal routine filled with mundane shit? Would He Tian have woken up every morning with his redhead in his arms? Would they have a favorite restaurant for take out? Friends they met for drinks a few times a month?

A hand curled in his hair, flexing against his scalp while his head bobbed and his throat worked around the other man’s cock before finally tugging him back and off of it. He panted, seconds from being pulled from his own game of pretend, when the other man kissed him in the dark, full of need and love. He pulled at the back of He Tian’s neck, tugging him up onto the bed and turning with him, pushing him toward the headboard.

He Tian moaned into that mouth when he found himself setting with his back to the headboard, the other sitting in his lap, their erections grinding together. He almost let a swear burst from his lips but bit it back. This fantasy wasn’t just his.

* * *

Jian Yi clung to him in the dark, imagining someone else running hands over his back and his hips and his thighs. He imagined the glazed, mysterious look of Zhengxi, always so hard to read right up until things got serious—then he was so easy to spot. Xi could look like he didn’t care about anyone or anything, until you considered his actions. Just because he didn’t say soft things didn’t mean he didn’t feel them.

No one had ever loved Jian Yi before Xi, or after, not really.

He dropped his head back, swallowing moans when the other man kissed and sucked at his throat. Jian Yi brought his hand to his face, pressing fingers into his mouth and wetting them. He felt the other man groan against his neck when he made those wet sounds, hips rolling up to rub them together.

Jian Yi shivered, reaching back with his wet fingers to stretch himself, loving how the other held his body up and close. He was so warm. Jian Yi suddenly felt like he’d been freezing to death for years and found the sun right here, in the dark.

He rushed, sloppy, doing the bare minimum to work himself before shifting forward, reaching down to stroke the other man’s hard cock with his wet fingers. He held him in position, shivering at the hands that clutched his hips but didn’t push him down. Jian Yi sank himself slowly onto the other man, his mouth dropping open but the deep moans coming from the other. He shivered, halfway down and so full. He panted, shaking. Fingers flexed against his hips but still didn’t pull him down—didn’t take.

Jian Yi moved, bouncing a little, pushing down farther each time until he was crying out and taking all of him.

Where was Xi now? Was he in college? Did he have a job? A roommate? Was he in love with someone? Did they have any idea how lucky they were?

He tried to pretend He Tian was Xi—would never have done it if he hadn’t suggested it. But it was impossible. He didn’t smell like him, didn’t make his whole body electric with nerves like Xi had. It wasn’t the same—couldn’t be the same—but at least it was something safe and comforting, at least it was someone who knew. One hand stroked his thigh, the other fanning his back, fingers twitching against his skin and hips tensing as he seemed to fight the urge to thrust up into him.

Jian Yi curled his arms around the other man’s head, feeling his breath against his clavicle while he road him. Was He Tian able to imagine his body was Red’s? Or was it the same pale imitation made functional out of desperation?

Jian Yi bit at his shoulder and it let loose a guttural groan deep in He Tian’s chest, like he’d been holding it down as best he could until then. He moved, not just thrusting up into him, but flipping him onto his back without ever leaving his body. Jian Yi sucked air, surprised and then swept away when He Tian laid him out and fucked him. He finally stopped thinking, clinging to the other man’s shoulders and gasping for air.

When they were both close, He Tian reached between them to wrap his hand around Jian Yi’s erection. It only took a couple strokes and he was lost, arching under him, straining and pressing his skull back against the mattress. He Tian pumped a few more times into his body before he came, one hand still around his softening sex and the other lost in the strands of his hair, cupping the side of his head.

They panted, foreheads touching, breath mixing, hearts racing—just racing for different people.

He Tian started to sit up, to withdraw, and Jian Yi grabbed at him on sheer impulse, pulling him close. “Just…give me another minute,” he whispered, breathy.

He Tian froze and then he smiled—Jian Yi could _feel_ it even in the dark. It was sad but it was there. He curled his arms around Jian Yi, hugging him to him despite the mess on his chest. After a while, he sat up again but this time he pulled Jian Yi with him. They showered off, not needing to say anything, and then they went to bed.

No one was going home today.

But maybe someday.

**Author's Note:**

> check out my [tumblr](https://dominimoonbeam.tumblr.com/) and feel free to leave prompts if you have any you want to see!


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